


Seeking Ms. Granger

by annarchy_marie



Category: Harry Potter - Fandom
Genre: Harry Potter - Freeform, Love, Veela, Viktor Krum - Freeform, hermione - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-05
Updated: 2020-04-06
Packaged: 2021-02-28 19:40:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,994
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23492590
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/annarchy_marie/pseuds/annarchy_marie
Summary: Viktor Krum, Bulgarian bon bon and famous Quidditch seeker from Durmstrang Institute has a secret, a family history he had never known about. But when he meets Hermione Granger, his whole life changes and those secrets start to come out.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Viktor Krum
Comments: 5
Kudos: 61





	1. Chapter 1

I stood at the bow of the Durmstrang ship as we neared the shore, preparing to dock at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. We had been invited to partake in the legendary Triwizard tournament, along with Beauxbatons Academy. The castle was breathtaking to behold, the fog surrounding the cliff it was built on and the light of the moon giving it an ominous aura. Eerie, yet inviting. The night sky was so clear, I could see the reflection of the stars in the black lake surrounding us. As I admired the lights emanating from the windows of the enormous castle, I could hear the songs of the merpeople in the lake. They rang in the back of my mind like a soft, distant echo.   
When the ship finally came to a halt, all of the students, led by Headmaster Igor Karkaroff, started the trek up to the school. When we got to the entrance, we were met by an older woman in a pointed hat. Her hair was pulled into a tight bun and her robes hung gracefully from her tall, yet slender, figure.   
“Good evening, Headmaster Karkaroff. How nice of you to join us,” she greeted with a soft smile.   
“Good evening, Minerva.” He turned to the rest of us, “Students, this is Professor McGonagall.”  
She led us down the hall and stopped us at a set of immaculate wooden doors.   
“If you’ll be so kind as to wait here for a few moments, I’ll have Mr. Filch let you know when we’re ready for you.”  
She disappeared into what appeared to be a grand dining room. I could see several long tables stretching across the room and dozens of students sitting in awe as a group of women in blue uniforms strutted and danced through the middle of them.   
Just before the doors closed, I could feel my senses being filled with the most beautiful smell. It seemed to wrap around my nostrils and entrance me, the sweetness like a drug took over me and I felt as though something deep within my soul had just been woken from its slumber. I was filled with a desire to seek out the culprit of the sweet aroma. A chill creeped up my spine, so slow I could barely do anything other than embrace it. I could feel my heart aching, calling out to me to follow the scent.   
Suddenly one of the doors opened slightly and a scraggly old man with greasy grey hair peeked his head out.   
“They’re ready for you now,” he said to us in his scratchy tone.   
The doors flew open and all of the men in front of me proceeded to march in, beating their staffs on the brick floor in perfect harmony. After them, Karkaroff signalled me to walk in with him. As I walked down to join the others at our table, the smell harassed me again. I had to fight all of my instincts to run around in a desperate, manic attempt to seek it out.  
I walked with my head facing forward, but I could feel all of the stares of the students around me. As a famous Quidditch player, it wasn’t anything new, but even before then, it seemed as though any time I entered a room, all of the attention would gravitate to me. I never could understand it. Most of the time, I felt like I was getting too much attention, even despite being well known. People just seemed naturally drawn to me.  
“It’s him! It’s Viktor Krum!” I heard a few people on my left shout.   
There were a few gasps before it fell silent and I could feel all of the attention weighing on me.   
The addictive fragrance floating all around me was all I could think about while Headmaster Albus Dumbledore gave announcements. It wasn’t until one of the other students at the table nudged me to get my attention that I was able to snap out of it momentarily.   
“Krum!” he whispered. “Viktor, are you alright, mate?”  
I nodded at him and I could see he wanted to pry. I was thankful when he didn’t, finding the person sitting next to him suddenly a lot more interesting. The people around me carried on in conversation, and as I was usually unsocial the majority of the time anyway, no one bothered me much. My thoughts were free to roam. I couldn’t figure out why that scent had affected me so much. Nothing in my life had ever filled me with such longing before. The longing I felt only matched by an equal amount of confusion.   
I was once again interrupted when a door behind the teacher’s table opened and two men wheeled in a large golden case with large jewels embedded in it. They pushed it to the center of the room, and as they walked off, Dumbledore stepped forward. He held up his hands to get the attention of the room. The hall fell silent as he spoke.   
“As you all may know, Hogwarts was chosen to host the Triwizard Tournament this year. Eternal glory is what awaits the champion who succeeds in these challenges. From each school, one champion will be selected to compete in these tasks. Three completly dangerous tasks.”  
He paused for a moment, nodding to a man coming to stand beside him.  
“For this reason the ministry has seen fit to impose a new rule. To explain all this we have the head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation, Mr. Bartimus Crouch.”  
After Dumbledore finished, Mr. Crouch informed us that they had changed the rules and no one under the age of seventeen would be allowed to put their name in the Goblet of Fire and enter the tournament. Chaos erupted through the Great Hall. Out of nowhere, I felt a strange wave of emotion hit me, but I couldn’t figure out why. It felt as though it were being projected onto me. I could sense the emotion coming from one of the tables in front of mine. The closest one to me had red and gold garland on it. I could feel the direction the emotion was coming from. My heart started to beat faster as my eyes slowly turned toward a group of redheaded students. Sitting among them was a skinny younger guy with circular glasses, and a brunette, who glanced in my direction only long enough to meet my eyes. She blushed and turned away quickly. For that brief moment, a rush of emotion that I couldn’t explain washed over me, but this time I recognized it as my own.   
I watched her for a few moments as she attempted to listen to the rest of Barty’s speech over the crowd’s boo-ing, unable to take my eyes off of her.   
“Silence!” Dumbledore yells.  
His hand rose over the golden case at his side, and slowly the casing started to melt away, revealing a large goblet with blue flames rising from it.  
“Anyone wishing to submit themselves for the tournament need only write their name upon a piece of parchment and throw it in the flame before this hour on Thursday night. Do not do so lightly, if chosen there's no turning back. As from this moment, the tri-wizard tournament has begun!”

After dinner, all of us headed back to our ship for the night. The further I got from the castle, the less I noticed the scent. It seemed that the less I smelled it, though, the more I longed to run back and surrender myself to its embrace. My confusion turned into fear as this realization came to me. It wasn’t until I was back in my own quarters below the ship deck that I felt free from the assault on my senses, though sleep still wasn’t easy to come by. I found comfort listening to the water splashing against the wooden ship. The songs of the merpeople once again drifted up to my ears like a lullaby, and soon I fell into a slumber.   
The next morning, we woke early to head back to the Great Hall for breakfast. The conversation around me mostly consisted of the tournament ahead. Every single student from Durmstrang thought they were good enough to win, and I couldn’t say that I was any different. Karkaroff had every confidence that not only would I be chosen to participate, but that I would come out as the champion.   
We made it into the Great Hall earlier than the rest of the students, most of us still scratching the crust out of our eyes. Not long after us, the Beauxbatons class walked in. As they filed in and took their seats not far from us, one of the guys next to me, Antoni, nudged me.   
“That Fleur Delacour is quite a piece of work, eh, Viktor?”  
He indicated towards a pretty blond girl sitting at the end. An instinct deep inside me awoke as soon as I saw her. I could feel there was something strange about her, even before Antoni told me.   
“Gotta be careful with that one.” He says.   
“Why is that?” I inquire.   
“She’s not human. I hear she’s a Veela. She hypnotizes men and drives them crazy,” he licked his lips as he stared at her.   
“I can tell it’s working on you,” I joked.   
He laughs, “No, this is just simply the best pumpkin juice I’ve ever had! Besides, I think you have to be so close to them before they can influence you anyway. I’m gonna keep my distance. A woman like that would be my undoing.”  
“Tony, any woman would be your undoing,” another guy states simply.   
Antoni shoves him and they turn their attentions away from me to bicker back and forth.   
Hogwarts students began filing in. That was when I noticed that the smell began to seep into the room again. My eyes widened and frantically searched the faces of the people walking in. I had no idea what I was searching for but I had a feeling it was something to do with the brunette I saw last night. My leg twitches, willing my body to get up. I forced my reluctant muscles to turn around in my seat, and moved all my attention to the goblet of pumpkin juice in front of me.   
After fighting with myself for a few more minutes, I decided that maybe I could go for a walk to stretch my muscles, maybe get some fresh air before we returned to our ship for classes. Though our exams had been cancelled, Karkaroff still insisted that we remained focused on our studies.  
As I made my way across the shore of the lake, I could hear giggles and footsteps behind me. They had been following me all the way from the castle. I turned to look, and saw a group of about four girls. One girl’s face turned beet red as I locked eyes with her.   
“Hi, Viktor,” she said sheepishly, making the other girls giggle again.   
I nodded to her and proceeded to walk again. As I took each step, I lifted my knees high to work the strain out of my thighs. Each time I did so, it seemed the fan club following behind me would erupt into another fit. I kept my eyes forward, determined to ignore them. They trudged behind me all the way back to the Durmtrang ship, where each of them frowned and waved goodbye to me before stalking back off to class.   
It seemed as though the only place I could go to escape the group of girls that always seemed to track me everywhere was the library. I made my way to a table close to the back, hoping no one would notice me. I noticed an overwhelming sense of calm concentration take over me and felt my eyes drifting over to a table beside me. Sitting there all by herself was the pretty brunette girl. Watching her, I could feel something in me aching to approach her. Usually I avoided girls if I could. They were just too much of a hassle and would really only pretend to enjoy my company once they recognized who I was. No one ever saw me as regular old Viktor Krum. All they saw was the famous Quidditch seeker on his broom and the piles of money that were surely in my vault.   
After several long minutes, two boys, one redhead and a dark haired guy with circular glasses, joined her. Suddenly, I felt a pang of jealousy. Who were they? Surely one of them had to be her boyfriend. Noticing I was close enough that I could hear their conversation, I opened my book and feigned studying.  
“Hi, Hermione,” the dark haired boy said.   
I felt a sense of surprise shock me just as the girl jumped up in her seat and snapped her head towards the pair.  
“Oh!” She exclaimed, “Hi, Harry, Ron. Is everything alright?”  
The redheaded boy answered, “We were just about to head down to Hagrid’s for tea since we’re finished with classes for the day. Care to join us?”  
“Sure, I was just finishing up in here,” she gathered her books, and the three of them made their way to the shelves to return the six books she had been reading from.   
I watched, unable to tear my eyes from her, as they all left the library. Jealousy still bit through me, making me, once again, confused.   
I stayed in the library for at least another hour before deciding it was probably best to head back down to the ship. It was getting late and before long, it would be past curfew for the Hogwarts students. On my way out, I ran into Fleur, who at the time hadn’t been paying attention as she rounded the entrance.  
“Oh! Excuse me! I am so sorry!” She exclaims, “I left my book in here and didn’t want to be caught after curfew.”  
Almost immediately, her scent wafted into my lungs. She certainly smelled different, strong. Nothing like I had ever smelled before. While it wasn’t an unpleasant one, this definitely wasn’t the scent that had been constantly harrassing me since I arrived here at Hogwarts. Somehow that provided me with some relief. Maybe Antoni’s Veela theory wasn’t too crazy after all. Then if she really were a Veela, why didn’t I feel as compelled to her as men generally would be around her? The moment I realized there was something definitely strange about her, I watched as her eyes widened. She had that look of someone who knew a secret but wouldn’t dare tell it to anyone. She quickly put on a facade of friendly indifference.   
“Excuse me, I was just leaving,” I said to her.   
She smiled at me, “It’s Viktor, isn’t it?’  
“Yes,” I hesitated, scratching my neck.  
“I’m Fleur Delacour. It’s so refreshing to be around someone like me. I’m not picking up on a lot of animosity from you, which is a good thing.”  
Her words further confused me. Someone like her? What did that mean? We certainly didn’t seem very similar to me.   
The next evening as I was strolling down the hall, Karkaroff approached me.   
“Where are you headed, Krum?” he asked.  
“Nowhere in particular. Just walking,” I replied.   
He grabs my elbow with one hand and starts guiding me down another corridor.  
“We must enter your name in the Goblet of Fire. The drawing is tomorrow night! Unless you already have?” He looks at me, hopeful.  
I shake my head and follow him. We reach a door near the end of the corridor and he holds it open for me. The room was poorly lit with only a few candles in each corner. The blue flames rising from the goblet illuminated the room. There were students all crowded around it, chanting.   
“Fight, fight, fight!”  
The door slammed shut and all the attention in the room shifted to us, suddenly quiet. A few people gasped, but all parted to allow me access to the goblet. Around it, an aging line had been placed. On the floor in front of it were two older students who had previously been rolling around in some sort of weak display of a fight. They were truly a sight to behold. They had full heads of grey hair sticking out at all ends, and full beards that extended down to their chests. They watched as I entered the age line and placed a piece of parchment with my name on it in the fire.   
As I turned to leave, it felt as though I were being pulled in slow motion. My eyes locked with the girl I now knew to be Hermione Granger, and my heart nearly exploded in my chest. The familiar sweet scent floated up to my nose again. I knew now where it had been coming from. It was her. I still wasn’t sure what all of it meant though, why I was suddenly so affected by a girl before, especially one I had never even met. Somehow a complete stranger had managed to take control of all of my senses and scramble them all up.  
I felt surprise, hesitation, and excitement spread through me. Unable to control myself, I smirked at her. Her eyes lit up and a small smile spread across her face. She had the most beautiful smile I had ever seen. Something in me screamed to reach out to her and smooth the stray lock of hair behind her ear. My fingers tingle, anticipating the softness of her long, curly locks.   
Karkaroff beckoned me to him and I could feel the reluctance in all of my muscles as I moved to join him. Every part of me wanted to go back there and introduce myself to Hermione.


	2. The Interview

The next evening, Thursday evening, was the evening everyone had been eagerly anticipating all week. After dinner, Dumbledore approached the Goblet of Fire, gathering everyone's attention. Silence fell over the Great Hall as Dumbledore spoke. 

“The moment we've all been waiting for! The champion selection!”

There were a series of cheers as he raised his hand to the goblet. Almost immediately, the flame changes from blue to red. From the fire, a piece of parchment shoots into the air, gently floating down to Dumbledore’s hand. Everyone looks at him, anxiously. 

“The Durmstrang champion is….. Viktor Krum!” 

The hall erupts in cheers and excitement, some of the guys patting me on the shoulder or telling me congratulations. I just smiled at them, having already prepared myself for this moment privately over the last few days. 

Another name is cast from the flame. 

“The Beauxbatons champion.. Fleur Delacour!”

Another round of applause. The hall grows quiet quickly, knowing there was only one name left, the Hogwarts champion. 

“And last, the Hogwarts champion…. Cedric Diggory!”

All of the students exploded, proud of their champion. 

“Excellent!” Dumbledore exclaims. “We now have our three champions! But in the end, only one will go down in history. Only one will hoist this chalice of champions, this vessel of victory, the Triwizard cup!” 

As our prize is revealed to us, the flame begins to sputter. Once again, it changes from blue to red. Dumbledore looks up into the fire nervously. Another slip of parchment is spit out into the air. It floats into Dumbledore’s outstretched hand. He looked at it, in his eyes is terror and shock. 

“Harry Potter,” he whispers, so low I wasn’t even sure how I was able to distinguish it. 

“Harry Potter!” He calls out, his booming voice echoing through the hall. 

A rush of emotion floods my veins, and I immediately recognize that it’s not my own. I sense the fear and shock, and my eyes automatically seek her out. She’s sitting right beside Harry Potter, who had sunk down low in his chair. Her face had lost almost all of its color, now a pale white. 

“Harry Potter!” Dumbledore repeats, almost threatening. 

Hermione shoves Harry from his seat, and he slowly makes his way down to Dumbledore. He shoves the parchment in his hands. Harry takes a moment to read and then looks up at him, disbelieving. McGonagall motions to Harry to follow her through the door behind the teacher’s table. Karkaroff and Madame Maxime motion for us to follow as well.   
The four of us gathered in the room and shortly after, multiple Hogwarts teachers follow, along with Mad-Eye Moody and Barty Crouch. Dumbledore rushes over to Harry and grabs him by his shirt sleeve. 

“Harry, did you put your name in the Goblet of Fire?” He almost yells at him. 

Harry looks at him, terrified, “No sir!”

“Did you ask one of the older students to do it for you?”

“No, sir!”

Madame Maxime cuts in, “But of course he is lying!”

“The hell he is.” Mad-Eye says, “The Goblet of Fire is an exceptionally powerful magical object. Only an exceptionally powerful confundus charm could have hoodwinked it. That exceeds the talents of a mere fourth year.”

Karkaroff rounds on him, looking him dead in his eyes, “You seem to have given this a fair bit of thought, Mad-Eye.”

“Yes, well, it was once my job to think the way dark wizards do, Karkaroff,” he spat, “Perhaps you remember, hm?”

“This isn’t helping anything. What do you think, Barty?” Dumbledore asks. 

Mr. Crouch looks between the four of us curiously for a moment. 

“The Goblet of Fire constitutes a binding magical contract. Mr. Potter is, as of tonight, a Triwizard champion.”

After a few moments, Dumbledore dismisses us. We all leave the room and go our separate ways. My instincts told me to head back in the direction of the library. I wasn’t sure why, but they seemed to steer me whether I wanted it or not. 

When I entered the library, I immediately spotted her, her face buried in a book, completely distracted from anything going on around her. I could sense her unease, her anxiety, her panic. I wanted to approach her, but resisted. What would I say to her? She looked too engrossed in her book to be disturbed. 

I settled on finding a book and sitting at a table across from her. As much as I tried to actually focus on reading, I couldn’t keep my eyes off of Hermione. I watched her as she read, occasionally jotting down notes. I admired the way her nose scrunched up when she came across something particularly interesting, or absolutely revolting. It was difficult to gauge which one. She brushed a lock of hair behind her ear, and my fingers tingle again, longing to know how it felt. My heart fluttered in my chest.   
I was sure she could hear my heart beating frantically, as her head suddenly snapped up and she locked eyes with me. In a panic, I stood up, fumbling with my book, and headed out of the library. 

Sometime later the next week, all four of us were called back into Dumbledore’s office. We were each going to get interviewed by the Daily Prophet. A brightly dressed woman with bleach blonde hair and too red lipstick approached us. She reeked strongly of roses, a scent I was never impartial to until I smelled it on this unpleasant woman. She introduced herself to us as Rita Skeeter. Even her name was unattractive. 

She looked between us and nodded her head approvingly. I noticed her eyes lingered a moment longer on me. A low growl emanated from my throat as she licked her lips, flashing all of her yellow teeth. She turned her attention back to the others.

“I suppose we shall start with the youngest then.”

She grabbed Harry by his arm and led him into a broom cupboard at a far corner of the office. 

“She seems pleasant,” Fleur commented, her nose scrunched up in disgust. “I hope there’s a window in that tiny cupboard. I don’t know how long I’ll be able to bear being stuck with her and that stench.”

I nodded my agreement. 

“What stench?” Cedric asks. 

“You didn’t smell that?” I asked, confused, my eyes nearly watering just thinking about it. 

“Nothing very strong, no. Just smelled like she had sprayed some light perfume to me.”

I looked at Fleur, who was giving me the same knowing look as she did that night in the library. She didn’t speak on it again, though.   
We waited in silence until both Harry and Cedric were finished with their interviews. After which, they were permitted to return to their classes. 

“Viktor, won’t you join me?” Rita’s voice floated out to me, almost too hopeful for my liking. 

I made my way to the cupboard and stepped inside, immediately feeling uncomfortable. The smell of roses had intensified, having been locked up in the small cupboard for the last two hours or so. Unfortunately for myself and Fleur, I noticed, there was no window. I groaned internally. 

“Viktor Krum,” she says, her tone unsettling me even further, “Bulgarian Quidditch seeker. Your record is quite impressive. Excellent grades, but an even more exceptional flyer. I know all about your successes and achievements. We’re not here to talk about that, though, are we? We’re here to get to know you as a potential Triwizard champion!”

I stare at her as I wait for her to continue. She seems displeased at my lack of communicating. 

“So, how are you feeling about being selected to compete in these tournaments against two other students who are as vastly emotionally mature and talented as yourself?” 

“Three,” I corrected her. 

She looks at me, puzzled. 

“There are three other competitors.” I smirk at her. 

Her face and chest flush pink. 

“Ah, yes, well I wouldn’t say that Harry is quite as prepared for this as you are. Would you?” 

Her quick quotes quill scribbles vigorously as she speaks. 

“I would say that Harry has been chosen for a reason. It is not for me to decide if his capabilities are up to par for him to compete anymore than it is for you to assume that they aren’t.”

Rita laughs, but I could tell she was taken aback by my response. I just stare at her blankly as I wait for her next question. 

“My, my, I should have known you’d come packing some spunk. An unexpected surprise from someone who’s naturally so shy in nature,” she pauses to wink at me, “Whatever made you enter this tournament anyway, with you being so distanced socially? You must secretly revel in all of the attention, desperately seeking validation and approval from the world, even though you already know you’re more than worthy.”

“I don’t care for the attention. It’s followed me my whole life. I know I don’t need to prove myself. I simply wanted to test myself and push myself to my limits. This may be a competition, but I see it more as a personal challenge.”

I shifted uncomfortably on the stool I had been seated in directly in front of her. She leaned in closer to me and my head started to pound, aching from inhaling so much of her repulsive perfume. I wondered how Harry and Cedric had been able to stay in here with her for so long. I knew I wouldn’t be able to handle it much longer if we couldn’t at least open a window.

“And how would your family feel about your being entered into this tournament, Viktor? How would your girlfriend feel?”

“My family is proud,” I state simply. 

“No word yet on your lady friend’s thoughts on the matter?” Rita pries. 

“There is no lady friend,” I manage to answer. 

I was beginning to feel light headed and knew I needed to get out of the room immediately. She puts her hand on my arm and looks into my eyes. 

“Oh, interesting.” She says. 

“If you’ll excuse me, I need some air,” I say.

Without giving her a moment to stop me, I rushed out of the room, welcoming the fresh air as it filled my lungs. I take in several slow, deep breaths and in an instant, feel recovered. 

“That bad, huh?” Fleur asks from behind me. 

I nod to her as she stands up from her seat and starts to make her way to the cupboard. 

“Good luck,” I say before she disappears behind the closed door. 

Finally outside Dumbledore’s office, I make my way back down to our ship. Karkaroff would surely be expecting me to brief him on my interview. I sighed. He was more concerned with my image than I was, insisting that I entertain as many reporters as I could no matter how exhausting it was for me. Not only did he expect my best performance in the upcoming challenges, but also for me to satisfy every irritating, smelly, prying reporter just like Rita Skeeter. I knew it was going to be a long year.   
As I rounded a corner, just about to exit the castle, I collided with a mass of curly brown hair and an armful of books. Her scent once again overtook my senses, the sweet delicious smell a welcome one, as opposed to the disgusting roses from earlier. I reached out and grabbed her hand to steady her. My skin began to tingle and burn from the contact. My heart soared in my chest. 

“I’m so sorry!” She exclaims, quickly bending down to retrieve her books. 

As she broke away from my grasp, disappointment stung through me, and a longing to just brush against her again took over me. I tried to shrug these strange feelings off as I helped her. 

“Thank you,” she says, taking a book from my extended hand. 

A light pink blush spread across her features when she finally registered who I was. I decided then and there that I’d never seen anyone as breathtakingly beautiful as Hermione Granger. I could sense her nervousness, but there was another feeling there that I wasn’t sure how to place. I looked down to see her shaking her free hand, barely hidden behind her side. Had she felt it too? 

For a moment, we just stood there looking at each other. I was completely dumbfounded and had no idea what to say now that she was right here in front of me. It was the moment I had been looking forward to since I first saw her; yet here I was, my hands sweating, heart beating so fast I could feel it skipping trying to keep up, at a complete loss for words. 

Idiot, I thought to myself. Just say something. Anything. 

Nothing came out. After a moment, she offered me a small smile and turned around to leave. I just stood there watching until she disappeared. I mentally slapped myself, hoping to Merlin I’d get another chance to be so close to her again.


	3. The First Task

Over the course of the next couple weeks, I had worked myself into a routine of visiting the library not only to study and escape my irritating, relentless fan club, but also to see Hermione. Somehow I still hadn’t managed to work up the courage to talk to her, despite what seemed to be a gravitational pull drawing me to her. I still hadn’t managed to work out what it was about her that both terrified and enthralled me. Trying to work it all out only ended up leaving me even more frustrated. 

_She’s just a girl_ , I had told myself every time I was near enough to her that I could’ve made a move. 

As I was pondering all of this, movement out of the corner of my eye snatched my attention. I turned to see Harry Potter walking towards me, making his way down the long bridge. 

“Nice day, isn’t it?” He says, finally reaching me. 

“Spectacular,” I reply. 

It truly was. As I leaned against the railing, I couldn’t help but stare in amazement out over the horizon. The reflection of the oranges, yellows, and pinks of the setting sun over the vast Black Lake was truly a sight to behold. I looked out to the mountains in the distance, the edge of the cliff the castle rested upon. Hogwarts had started to feel like more of a home to me than Durmstrang ever had. I wondered what it would have been like to have attended here instead. I sighed, knowing I would probably never get used to how captivating it was. 

“I found out what our first task is,” he says to me, pulling my attention. 

“Really?”

“Dragons.” He says plainly. 

I could see he had somehow already made amends with it.

“What, we have to battle a dragon?” 

“I don’t know the specifics, but I’m assuming so, yes. I got to see them in person. Last night, actually.”

I wanted to end this conversation with a simple “thank you” and go on about my way, but with one glance at Potter, I could tell he needed a friend. Something about the look in his eyes gave him away. He shuffled his feet, and I could tell that he was a bit uncomfortable, but not quite enough that he didn’t want company. 

“It makes sense that people have died in these tournaments in the past. They trust a bunch of teenagers to battle dragons, huge spiders, cockatrice, sphinx, and even Centaurs at one point. The death toll was so high that they discontinued it for many years,” I said. 

“Centaurs? Really? But they seem like such peaceful creatures,” Harry looks at me, amazed. 

This boy really needed to do his research. 

“There’s no real evidence to back it up, but yes. Centaurs haven’t always been so peaceful, Harry.”

“And what the bloody hell is a cockatrice?”

“Some would describe it as a two-legged dragon with a rooster’s head,” I shrug. “They’re still something of a mystery.”

“You sound like Hermione,” Harry laughs. “I can see you’ve definitely been doing your research.”

My heart skips a beat at the mention of her name. Then a flash of jealousy, as it fell from the mouth of another man. 

“It’s always nice to know what you’re up against.”

We stood there for a few moments, watching as the sun fell beneath the mountains. I knew it had to be nearing curfew. 

“Do Fleur and Cedric know?” I ask suddenly. “About the dragons, I mean.”

“Oh. Er, not yet. I found you first. I think I’m gonna tell Cedric about it first thing tomorrow, though. Everyone deserves to know.”  
“I’ll tell Fleur. Thanks for passing it along.”

“No problem. I reckon we should be heading back now. It’s almost curfew.”

“Right. See ya, Harry.” 

I turn to walk across the bridge, starting my long walk back, when Harry calls from behind me. 

“Hey, Krum? Thanks, for, erm, chatting with me.”

I nod to him and we both go our separate ways for the night. Of course when I did get back, Karkaroff made sure to drill me until I told him what I knew. After which, we discussed my strengths and tried to decide what I would do about defeating the dragon awaiting. 

“Time is of the essence,” he had told me. “We must be prepared. This isn’t a game, Krum. You could die. Your future, our future, is determined by what happens during this tournament!”

“I know. I’ll think of something,” I tried to reassure him.

“Do not trust that Potter boy, either. For all you know, he’s only trying to get close to you so he can get information out of you. He may have done you a kindness today, but he is still your opponent, and you must remember that, Viktor.”

That night, sleep was hard to come by, even with the lullaby of the merpeople below. When I closed my eyes, all I could think about was all of the brief moments I had spent in the company of Hermione, and all the things I wished I had done differently. If she had been any other girl, she would have approached me first. I just had to fixate on the one girl that wouldn’t. 

The next morning, I woke just as the sun was starting to peek out over the horizon. Despite the few hours of sleep I had managed to get, I felt energized. At least enough to go for a run down by the shore of the lake. With only a few days left until the first task, I needed to take as much time to prepare physically as I already had mentally. Luckily I had managed to make it out early enough that the entourage of girls that usually followed me around were still lying in their common rooms, far away from me. 

After a relaxing run, I headed up to breakfast in the Great Hall. There was a great feast already laid out for the hundred or so students. Eggs, sausages, pancakes, bacon, ham, biscuits, roasted potatoes, toast, tomatoes, and a large variety of assorted fruits all mingled together, replenishing themselves as needed. I spotted Fleur at her usual spot and remembered that she still didn’t know what to expect in the first task. I quickly swallowed down some eggs and sausages before making my way over to her. 

She greeted me with a friendly smile, “Hello, Viktor.”

“Good morning, Fleur. Might I have a word in private?”

She nodded and led me outside the doors of the hall. We walked down an empty corridor and leaned against a corner, mostly hidden from view. 

“What’s the matter?” She asked, her face concerned. 

“I just figured you might want to know what’s in store for us this Friday afternoon.”

“What’s that?”

“You know anything about dragons?” 

“You’re joking, Viktor! A real dragon?” Her jaw nearly hit the floor. 

“A real dragon,” I replied. 

The next few days passed by in a blur, the anticipation making it feel as though everything were progressing much too slow and entirely too fast at the same time. Friday was finally here, and I was only mere hours away from stepping into the arena with my dragon. Fleur, Cedric, Harry, and I were in the champion’s tent, spending our final moments preparing for what was to come. I could hear Fleur in the cubicle next to mine pacing back and forth frantically. Cedric was rehearsing what spells he was going to use, going over multiple strategies in his head, trying to maintain composure. Harry, directly in front of me, was finishing up dressing when I heard someone on the other side of the tent. Before I saw her, I knew who it was. Her scent was all too familiar to me, as was the sound of her voice. I could feel her anguish as it rolled off of her. 

She shot around the curtain and into the tent, wrapping Harry in a tight hug. Instantly, jealousy took hold of me. My body began to ache, desperately wishing for her to cling to me as she did to him. When I thought I wouldn’t be able to bear it a moment longer, another scent wafted into my nose. I looked over at Fleur. Her nose was scrunched up as she groaned, displaying her annoyance. 

“Young love!” Rita Skeeter exclaimed. 

Half a second later, a puff of smoke and a flash of light signalled a picture being taken of the two of them. 

“You know, if everything goes unfortunately today, you two might even make the front page!”

“You have no business here,” I say to her, ignoring her quill. “This tent is for champions and their friends.”

She turned to me, once again flashing her horrid yellow teeth. 

“Oh, no matter. We’ve already got what we want.” 

A moment after she exited the tent, Professor Dumbledore, followed by Mr. Crouch, filed in. They quickly guided us in a circle around them. 

“Good day, champions. You’ve waited, you’ve wondered. Now the moment you’ve all been waiting for has arrived,” Dumbledore says, looking down at Hermione, “What are you doing here, Ms. Granger?”

She hesitates, one final look at Harry, and says, “Oh. Sorry, sir. I’ll just go.”

She waves goodbye to Harry and returns to her place in the stands. I couldn’t help but think of how lucky Harry was to have her on his side. 

“Champions, if you will, each of you lower your hand into this bag and pull out a dragon,” Crouch says. 

He holds the bag out to each of us. Each dragon looked progressively nastier as we pulled them out. I had pulled out a Chinese Fireball, a long dragon with orange scales on his back, yellow on the bottom, and golden spikes protruding from his head. Mini fireballs were spewing from his mouth in an attempt to burn through my gloves so he could break free. 

“Now then. These represent four very real dragons, each of which has been given a golden egg to protect. Your objective is simple. You must retrieve the egg, without which, you cannot hope to proceed to the next task. Are there any questions?”

All of us looked over at Mr. Crouch and around at each other. When no one answered, Dumbledore announced that Cedric would be going first. At the sound of the cannon, he would be sent to face the dragon waiting for him in the arena down below. After him, Fleur, then myself, and finally, Harry. The sound of the cannon came much sooner than any of us had hoped for. Cedric took in a deep breath and slowly braced himself. I had to admit, I had been confident in my strategy plan all the way up until this moment. The realization sank in that the moment had finally come. 

We could hear the chants of the crowd as Cedric entered the arena. 

“Diggory! Diggory! Diggory!”

I looked over at Fleur. She was shaking, pacing back and forth, running her fingers through her hair. I wanted to tell her that everything was going to be alright, but nothing was certain now. For all we knew, this would be the last moment the four of us would ever spend together. 

I decided that if I survived this task, I would approach Hermione once and for all. Regret filled me as I took note of the fact that I could very well die today without ever having spoken to her, never having told her how truly beautiful she was. 

“So, Harry, is it?” Fleur asked. She had finally stopped pacing and was now looking at Harry with a nervous smile. 

He nods his response 

“Your girlfriend is very pretty,” she says. 

Instantly I feel my muscles tense up. Fleur seemed to sense this. She looked over at me with a confused frown. Then, slowly, I watch as her confusion melds into a face of sudden realization, her eyes widening. This time I feigned perplexion and turned away from the pair, still listening in on their conversation.

“You mean Hermione?” Harry asks, his eyebrow raised. “Oh no. She’s great and all, but we’re just friends.”

“Oh!” Fleur looks over at me, not missing my piqued attention. “I’m so sorry to have mistaken!”

“You’re not the first to think so. Actually, a lot of people have asked about it. They always either assume she’s dating me or Ron, but in truth, we’ve all just been friends since our first year. Hermione usually stays too caught up in her studies to bother with relationships anyway,” Harry shrugs.

“She has a good head on her shoulders then. My little sister is a completely different story.” Fleur rolls her eyes. “Barely twelve, and she loves the attention the boys give her.”

We spent the next thirty minutes or so listening to the cheers of the crowd, the “ooh”s and “ah”s, the roars and growls of the dragon Cedric was facing off with, small explosions. With each passing moment, Fleur’s nerves gave way to confidence. She smiled at me from the couch in the middle of the room. I nodded and turned my attention back to the fire burning in the pit in front of her. In truth, I was glad for her. She was going to need all of the mental strength she could muster for this challenge. 

“Mr. Diggory has successfully retrieved his golden egg and will proceed to the next task!” Dumbledore’s amplified voice sounded suddenly. “In a few moments, our next champion, Fleur Delacour from Beauxbatons, will enter the arena and face her fiery adversary!”

Fleur inhaled a deep breath as she moved towards the exit. 

“Wish me luck!” She looked over her shoulder to us. 

“Good luck!” Harry waves. 

She locks eyes with me and knows without me having to speak a word that I had every confidence in her. She nods to me, and in a flash, she’s gone. 

I was next. Time felt like it was moving in slow motion. All that was left for me to do was sit, wait, and listen. My mind raced over the strategy Karkaroff and I had planned out. He had insisted that even though nothing would be predictable in this challenge, I couldn’t just rush in there without some sort of idea of what I was going to do. My nerves told me I’d probably end up relying more on my ability to improvise, as I’m sure the other champions would have to do as well. 

After another long half hour or so of waiting, Dumbledore finally announced that it was my turn. The chanting of the crowd gave me the strength I needed for my feet to carry me down to the arena. As I stepped from the opening of the cave I had to walk through, I took a moment to assess my surroundings. There were several smaller boulders surrounding one very large one in the middle, and atop that one, the golden egg lay. The setup seemed too easy. It was too close. I knew the Chinese Fireball had to be waiting for me to step into its view. My senses felt heightened. I could hear tiny pebbles rolling around on the ground near me, the ground vibrating beneath my feet, surely from the dragon I knew was lurking nearby. A low growl sounded from above the cave, and I knew he was waiting to take me by surprise. The only way to go was forward. 

_Smart dragon_ , I thought to myself. 

Goosebumps riddled my flesh. Not in fear, but in anticipation. Somehow, I wasn’t sure how, I could hear the dragon’s scales all shifting as he quietly moved closer to the edge of the cave’s entrance. 

I looked up in the crowd and in the distance, I could see Hermione standing with the red headed boy, Ron. She would be my real prize if I survived through this. I would retrieve the golden egg, and then I would finally make my move on her. 

Taking my first step forward, I kept my ears trained on calculating the dragon’s movement above me. As quickly as I could, I jumped down from the ledge of the cave and onto the ground between two boulders. The dragon anticipated this, naturally. He roared, building his fire up in his throat. As he brought his head back down, he shot his flames out at me. I managed to roll behind one of the boulders, barely escaping being burned to a crisp. I stayed ducked down low and weaved my way through the rock maze. 

I listened to the sound of the dragon’s wings, whipping through the air as he soared overhead. He touched down just above the golden egg, taunting me, daring me to come and claim it. I would need to draw him away if I were to stand any chance getting close enough to grab the egg. The dragon hurls another round of flames in my direction. 

_Fight fire with fire_ , I thought. 

The first spell that came to mind when I stood face to face with the dragon, wand extended in front of me, was the Fiendfyre Curse. A bright, orange flame emanated from the tip of my wand. I willed it to grow larger, until it was nearly the size of the Fireball itself. The curse took on the form of another dragon made entirely of flames, dancing around him. His attention focused on my curse, he once again ascended into the air, his wings beating angrily. The golden spikes atop his head were all standing straight up now. He was in defense mode. 

The Fiendfyre dragon dove straight toward the Fireball. As I hoped, the dragons chased each other through the air. I utilized the little time I had before he realized it was a fake to climb up to the top of the boulder behind my back. Once on top of it, I jumped over to the next one, which stood at least another foot higher. I was finally able to lunge at the boulder with the egg on it. I managed to find my footing for a moment and started to climb. Just before I could reach over the top to pull myself up, though, my foot slipped. A piece of the rock had broken off, and tumbled down to the ground below me. 

The dragon heard the rock as it crashed and crumbled on the ground, and his attention turned back to me. Instantly, my curse dragon dissipated, and the all too real Chinese Fireball was nosediving toward me. I scrambled to stand in front of the golden egg, and fired off the Conjunctivitis Curse. Blinded and gliding through the air, he thrashed his wings in a frenzied attempt at slowing down, but it was too late. He crashed into one of the boulders below me head first. 

I bent down to retrieve the golden egg and hoisted it high for everyone to see, a smile spread across my face. I had done it. I had defeated my first dragon. My body ached from tumbling around on the gravel and there were cuts in my hands from the sharp edges, but when I scanned the crowd and saw Hermione Granger cheering and chanting my name with the crowd, none of it even mattered. The smile on her face made my heart swell with pride.

After the tournament, all of the champions were expected to head back to join with the rest of their schoolmates. Each school would be hosting their own small celebrations for their champion. I had other things in mind, though. I suspected I would find her in the library, so that’s where my determined feet led me. 

When I walked in the library, I spotted her in her usual seat near the back of the room. Her scent floated up to me, wrapping me in a blissful embrace. I almost felt as though I were in a daze as I made my way over to her. My breath hitched when I finally stood in front of her, only separated by a table and a few books. My heart pounded in my chest, and for a moment, I feared it would burst free from its confines. 

“You didn’t want to join your housemates in their celebration?” I asked her. 

She looked up at me, smiling. I couldn’t help but return her smile. 

“No, I don’t suppose so,” she replies. “I’m not really one for parties.”

I laughed, unable to contain the excitement and nervousness I felt. As I moved to sit down in front of her, my hand accidentally knocked down a stack of books that had previously been near the edge of the table. 

“Alright there, Mr. Krum,” I heard the librarian yell from behind me. “This is a library, and unless you happen to have found another dragon lurking around, there is no need for you to be making noise and throwing my books everywhere!”

I smiled at her, “My most sincerest apologies, ma’am. Please forgive me.”

She blushes a deep shade of red and waves me off. 

“Just don’t let it happen again,” she says, her tone much softer now. 

I picked the books back up off the floor and stack them back on the table. I could feel my chest and face burning from embarrassment. Hermione notices this and giggles. 

“What’s so funny?” I ask her, amused. 

“Nothing. Nothing at all.”

I sat down, fully aware of this new feeling of comfort taking over both of us. It was strange to me that I was so nervous to talk to her before, as the two of us quickly eased into each other’s company. 

“So, what brings you here, Mr. Krum? I would’ve pegged you for the partying type.”

“Viktor. Please, call me Viktor, Ms. Granger.”

“What a gentleman,” she smiles. “You can call me whatever you’d like, but my friends call me Hermione.”

“Well then, Hermione. It’s a pleasure.”

Her name tasted delicious as it rolled off my tongue. Hesitantly, I reached out and took both of her hands in mine. I rubbed soothing circles on the back of her hands, extremely happy that she hadn’t pulled away, though, somehow, a part of me expected that she wouldn’t. I looked up in her eyes, and in them I could see all of the emotions I already felt pouring out of her. She turned a light shade of pink, noticing I was staring at her. I smirked at her. 

_The pleasure’s all mine, indeed,_ I thought, admiring her smile. I honestly couldn’t remember any other time a woman had ever stirred such things in me. Her smile lit up my whole being. I felt content, complete, as I sat there looking into her eyes. 

“So, Viktor,” she swallowed, her voice low and almost seductive, “What are you doing here?”

“I think you already know the answer to that.”


End file.
